


That Night in the French Ward

by Almost_Star_Struck



Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: 1960s, Drugs, Dry Humping, Frottage, Game Spoilers, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mob Husbands, Partying, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Pre-Vietnam Lincoln, Racist Language, Slurs, getting high together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Star_Struck/pseuds/Almost_Star_Struck
Summary: Lincoln only had one last night to spend with his closest friends before being shipped to Nam. Giorgi gave him a helluva send-off. WARNING: Game spoilers.Not Betaed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Radiomomo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Radiomomo).



> A collab with the lovely Radiomomo (http://radiocga.tumblr.com/) who made a comic based on the below scene. 
> 
> (http://radiocga.tumblr.com/post/151458786064/radiocga-based-on-almost-star-struck-s-fic)
> 
> WARNING: Racist language based on the time period and the in-game canon.

The Yacht Club looked like the mansions they sometimes showed off in the papers, fresh paint, manicured lawns tended by colored folks, and some of the nicest rides parked by suited valets. Lincoln pulled his car up the side, smiling as he saw a familiar face waiting at the front. Giorgi had one hand slouched in his pant pocket, his eyes scanning the road until they find saw him climb out the door.

“Whoa-hohoho! _Lincoln Clay!_ Christ man, get a look at you.” Giorgi descended the front steps and whistled as he eyed Lincoln up and down. “I bet those fucking gooks shit themselves then they saw you coming.”

They met halfway, clasping each others arms. Lincoln smiled and gave Giorgi a light squeeze. “Been a long time, Giorgi,” he greeted in a fond voice.

Laughing, Giorgi returned the grin. “Oh no shit it’s been a long time. I think the last time I saw you was that night in the French Ward, right before you shipped out.” He shook his head, “Damn if that wasn’t a gas.”

Lincoln nodded and stared at Giorgi. That night….well that night had been a lot of things. A gas, definitely, but so much more than that. “Oh, I seem to remember me and Ellis runnin’ from the cops, and Danny endin’ up in the drunk tank.” He raised an eyebrow, wondering if Giorgi was going to bring it up at all.

“Hell, man. I bailed him out. Besides, it was worth it to knock the hell out of them cracker assholes.” Giorgi pulled out a pack of cigarettes, “Smoke?”

Staring at the pack, Lincoln nodded and took one. "Sure," he said, taking a cigarette and raising it to his mouth, grinning at the Italian. 

Four years later and Giorgi still wore that _stupid_ tie.

* * *

**_August 12, 1964_ **

_“Giorgi, I don’t know what kinda shit your Uncle Lou told them, but hot damn.” Ellis laughed, shoving Danny’s back as they stumbled away from the Police Station. Giorgi just smirked and tilted his nose in the air._

_“My Uncle runs this part of the city,” He said as he took Danny’s other arm. “What are the pigs gonna do? Nothing, that’s what.” Between Ellis and Giorgi, Danny gave a weak hiccup and smiled, nodding his head._

_Lincoln laughed, “Well I think the party might be over anyway. Ellis, you good to drive Danny, I’ll take Giorgi?”_

_Snorting, Giorgi said, “Whoa, hold on there, Godzilla. I’m not the one who started humping the statue of Andrew Jackson here. I’ve got plenty of party left in me!” He beat his chest and gestured to Ellis, “Right? Don’t you wanna keep going? It’s your last night.”_

_Ellis shrugged, “We can go back to Pop’s bar. Get some beers and whiskey. I’ve got some joints left over from when Marty was here.” He opened the car door, shuffling Danny’s near unconscious form into the back seat. “It’s pretty good shit, right Lincoln?”_

_Lincoln nodded and said, “Alright. Sounds like a plan. We’ll go on ahead.” Leaning down, he mussed Danny’s long hair. “You take care, asshole. Don’t puke in there or you’ll spend tomorrow cleanin’ it up.”_

_“Ah, fookin’ Christ….” Danny muttered, his Irish accent coming out as he slurred, “I’m not that gone.” As he spoke, he fell over, head sliding against the upholstery._

_“And my old man’s the goddamn Queen of England,” Giorgi said, waving. “You owe me, Danny boy.”_

_Danny lifted his hand and gave them both the finger as Ellis got into the driver’s seat and revved the engine. “See ya’ll back at the house,” he said, throwing a peace sign as he drove off into the night._

_Giorgi snorted and shook his head, “Man, and I always thought Micks went through whiskey like water.” He clapped his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, “Alright, lead the way.”_

* * *

_Delray Hollow was dark by the time they reached Sammy’s Bar. Lincoln pulled into the garage and got out, pulling down the old rusted door by hand. Giorgi stepped out and stretched, cracking his spine. “Hey Lincoln…why is your old man letting you go off to Nam anyway?” He glanced back as Lincoln unlocked the door and lead the way into the deserted building. “Mine paid off the recruiters to remove my name from their listings, means I don’t have to hightail it to Canada or god forbid, Mexico.”_

_“I told him I just feel like it’s somethin’ I gotta do, Giorgi.” Lincoln said, flicking on the lights. There was a buzzing sound before the bar came to life, the warm glow glinting off the shelves of bottles. “He said I’m a man now. I get to make my own decisions.” He walked over and dragged two beers and a bottle of hard liquor out, tossing one to Giorgi who caught it with a showy sweep behind his back._

_Giorgi took his butterfly knife out from his vest and popped off the cap. “Yeah well it’s a stupid fucking decision, you know that right?” He took a swig and made a face, “Christ, your old man is allowed to sell this shit?”_

_“Hey, complain all you want, but it'll get you drunk.” Lincoln nudged Giorgi toward the tables, taking a stool by the old wall piano. He poured the whiskey into two glasses and grinned, “And I don’t think you gotta any right to be tellin’ me I’m stupid when you fuckin’ brought me and Ellis into the fuckin’ whitest bar in the French Ward.”_

_Giorgi leaned against the hightop, downing the rest of his beer before reaching for the whiskey. “Hey man, you had fun! We got to chase some fucking rednecks. You won’t be doing that kinda shit in Nam.”_

_Reaching for his own whiskey, Lincoln clinked the glasses together. “No I won’t…I’m gonna miss you, Giorgi,” he said, a touch of melancholy in his voice._

_A strange expression flittered across Giorgi’s face. It was gone before Lincoln could really register it and Giorgi instead smiled. “Yeah, you better write. Tell me about all the gooks you whack.” They both finished their shots and Lincoln poured out a second round._

_They both heard the creak of the door and Ellis came in, shaking his head. “Oh Danny is gonna be hurting come tomorrow.” He glanced up at the two and whistled. “Damn, Lincoln, breakin’ out the good shit for Giorgi.”_

_“Yeah yeah, where’s that weed, Ellis?” Lincoln waved him off before adding an expectant tilt of his head. Ellis snorted and headed into the basement, dragging up a black box with a rusty brass lock._

_“Remember, pops doesn’t know I’m dealin’.” He handed them each a joint as Giorgi pulled out his lighter. “He asks about the smell and we say we got some down in the Ward.”_

_Giorgi laughed and nodded. “Lemme do the honors for our soldier boy.” He winked at Lincoln who just stuck the joint between his lips and leaned forward, watching as the lighter was lit and the flame touched the end of the stick._

_He inhaled deeply and exhaled through his nose, enjoying the heat that coursed through his sinuses. Giorgi lit his own joint and then offered the lighter to Ellis._

_All the while Giorgi’s brown eyes followed the trails of smoke that left Lincoln’s mouth._

* * *

_“What fuckin’ timesit?” Ellis muttered, his head laying against the table. Giorgi shrugged, his eyelids practically shuttered as he loosely grasped the empty whiskey bottle._

_“Mmmm, gotta be past 3…” Lincoln muttered, sidling off the stool on wobbly legs. He looked at Giorgi and pulled out his car keys. “Shit…don’t think any of us should be drivin’ tonight. Giorgi, you can crash in my room.”_

_Giorgi groaned, “Lemme give my old man a ring. Let ‘m know I’m not gutted or somethin’.” He stood and nearly fell to the floor. Lincoln managed to grab his arm, keeping him at least partway upright._

_Ellis laughed and banged his fist on the table. “Shit, Giorgi. I ain’t ever seen you this fucked up! When’s the last time you had whiskey?”_

_Shooting a glare to Ellis, Giorgi righted himself as much as possible, leaning heavily into Lincoln’s hold. “Just get me upstairs in one piece, Godzilla,” he muttered as Lincoln carefully turned them both to the stairs._

_Looking over Giorgi’s head, Lincoln gave a nod to Ellis, “Leave the glasses in the sink. I’ll get to it in the mornin’.” Ellis gave a weak thumbs up and then stood, throwing the empty bottles into the trash and taking his box of reefer back with him to his room._

_It took a few minutes of fumbling, but Lincoln managed to get him and Giorgi into his bedroom without falling. “Take the bed,” he said, gesturing to the thin mattress. It wasn’t much and he knew that Giorgi probably slept on the plushest pillows back at his family home, but it was better than the floor at least._

_“Naw man, we can squeeze in.” Giorgi flopped onto the bed, bouncing a bit with the creaking springs. “I ain’t been this shitfaced in a long time.” He grinned at the ceiling and tilted his head to Lincoln. “My dad’s gonna throw a fuckin’ fit.”_

_Too tired to argue, Lincoln nodded and sat down, dragging the sheet off the side of the bed. It may have been fall, but it was still too damn hot, especially at night. “We’ll figure somethin’ out, Giorgi.”_

_He exhaled and closed his eyes, feeling Giorgi shift behind him. “Lincoln?”_

_“Yeah, Giorgi?”_

_“I don’t want you to go to Nam.”_

_Lincoln opened his eyes and peaked over his shoulder. Giorgi was running his fingers back and forth against the mattress. “I ain’t gonna die, Giorgi. If I can take care of those fuckin’ cracker bastards in the club, I can take a coupla assholes hidin’ in trees.” Lincoln said as he touched the other man’s shoulder. “Fuck, you’ve seen me take on guys twice my size.”_

_Sighing, Giorgi rolled over to face Lincoln. There was that expression again, the one Lincoln had only caught a glimpse of earlier. “Yeah, well…you ain’t allowed to get whacked.” He then pushed himself up, just enough to lean over Lincoln. “You’re makin’ a deal with a Marcano and you don’t fuckin’ back outta it.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Lincoln said, “If I die, what’re you gonna do about it? Can’t kill me, I’ll be dead already.”_

_Giorgi paused at that and swallowed, licking his lips. “You’re just not allowed, damnit! Stop makin’ this difficult.” He shoved at Lincoln’s chest, barely moving the taller man’s frame. He gave a frustrated grunt and added, “Big bastard.”_

_Lincoln grinned and chuckled, “Yep, better get all your punching out now, Giorgi. I won’t be here tomorrow night for you to beat up.”_

_“Yeah….right.” Giorgi’s face softened again, “You won’t be here tomorrow night.” He bit his lip and stared down. All smiles were dropped and the heated Louisiana air became cold. “ **Fuck** , Lincoln…you’ll be on a plane a thousand miles away.” _

_Giorgi’s face scrunched and he tried to cover his eyes, but Lincoln had already seen the hint of tears. “Shit man…Giorgi.” Giorgi gave a shuddering exhale on top of him and then collapsed against Lincoln’s chest. Lincoln watched as Giorgi nuzzled into his sternum, smearing tears and snot against his t-shirt. “Hey…come on, Giorgi.”_

_Lifting his head enough to prop his chin on Lincoln’s chest, Giorgi met his gaze and held it. Lincoln sighed and touched Giorgi’s hand, stroking up and down the fine fabric of the other man’s white vest. “Let’s just get some sleep. It’ll be better once the whiskey’s off-“_

_Lincoln found his words swallowed when Giorgi leaned forward and pressed their mouths together. It wasn’t graceful and it was dry from their combined cotton mouths, but Lincoln didn’t pull away. Giorgi pressed him down into the mattress, refusing to let up until he literally ran out of air, lifting up with a sharp gasp._

_With just a bit of glare from the moon, Lincoln could see Giorgi’s pale cheeks were flushed as they both panted in the aftermath._

_Had he just-_

_Had they just?_

_Before Lincoln could devote another thought to what had happened, Giorgi was kissing him again, this time mostly missing his mouth in favor of his cheek. One of Giorgi’s hands was roaming down over his chest and Lincoln groaned, feeling himself turn into Giorgi’s touch. “Fuck!” he hissed as Giorgi’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, yanking it up until they had to separate so they could pull it over his head._

_Giorgi paused, staring down at Lincoln as if he had never seen him before. Suddenly he was fumbling with his teal tie, fingers shaking at the knot. Lincoln grabbed the piece of fabric and pulled the knot until he heard the distinct sound of silk tearing. Giorgi’s vest went next, joining the tatters of tie on the floor before finally the undershirt. “Shit, Giorgi…” Lincoln said, his hands raising to cup the other man’s sides. He felt at a complete loss for words as he watched Giorgi grasp his belt and loosen the buckle, dragging the leather through his jeans._

_Lincoln knew he should feel embarrassed, should feel ashamed about doing this with a guy, let alone one of his best friends, but all he could feel was the pounding of his heart and head in tandem with one another. Giorgi’s eyes held so much heat it was burning him up even as his pants were unzipped and his boxers unbuttoned._

_“Christ, look at you…” Giorgi murmured, palming over Lincoln’s groin. “Goddamn…” he squeezed and watched the way Lincoln’s hips squirmed and rocked. Giorgi’s hand was hot against him and Lincoln couldn’t help but bite his lip, closing his eyes. It was too much to see and feel this all at once._

_Giorgi gave him another squeeze and then his hand pulled back. Lincoln could hear rustling and he opened his eyes a slit to see Giorgi tossing his pants to the floor on the rest of the pile. “Lincoln…fuckin’ hell, you didn’t fall asleep on me, did you?” he growled as he laid out on top of Lincoln’s chest._

_Bringing his hands up to Giorgi’s shoulders, Lincoln opened his eyes. “I’m awake.” Giorgi seemed to relax, pushing himself up just a bit._

_“Good…” he muttered as he began to roll his hips down. Two layers of cloth were all that separated their dicks and the thought made Lincoln shudder. Without a shirt, the thick cloying scent of Giorgi’s cologne was filling Lincoln’s nose, making him feel even more lightheaded than he already was._

_“Giorgi,” Lincoln panted, rocking his hips against the man on top of him. “What….what are we doin’?” he managed between breaths. His cock was more than half-mast at this point and Giorgi was already there, grinding down against the firm muscles of Lincoln’s stomach._

_Giorgi leaned down and kissed him, teeth pulling at Lincoln’s thick bottom lip **. “What feels good.”** He whispered in a low breathy voice as he dug his fingers into Lincoln’s thick curls, tugging at the roots. The slight pull and pain against his scalp combined with the weight and pressure of Giorgi’s body against his cock had him moaning. “This feels good, right Lincoln?” _

_Lincoln managed a small nod and hissed as Giorgi tugged again. “Fuck!” he growled. Girls had never pulled his hair or bit him…and yet it felt good, a contrast to the heat building in his lower body._

_Slowly, he raised his own arms up, grasping Giorgi’s hips and forcing the other man to grind down hard, giving them both more friction. He purposefully dug his fingers in, grunting with each thrust. Giorgi didn’t fight it, in fact, he laughed and rocked with the controlled motion._

_“Damn…getting’ close,” he panted above, letting go of Lincoln’s hair to reach down and unbutton his boxers, dragging the shaft of his cock through the slit in the fabric. Lincoln glanced down and watched as Giorgi did the same to him, wrapping his hand around both their swollen members and pumping them together._

_Giorgi’s dick was hot against his own, pulsing and leaking at the head. Instead of being disgusted, Lincoln felt his throat grow tight, thrusting up into Giorgi’s strong grip. “’m not gonna last,” he managed between heavy breaths, staring up at the other man._

_Grinning, Giorgi leaned down and kissed him. “Don’t need to.” He squeezed the two cocks in his hand and they simultaneously groaned._

* * *

_The next day, Lincoln woke to the sound of Sammy pounding on the door, yelling for him to clean up the mess downstairs. He groaned and covered his eyes as he sat up. A body next to him shifted and he immediately looked down. Giorgi was still asleep, mostly naked and curled around the pillow. Lincoln rubbed his head and stared down at their clothes, at the sheets._

_Why?_

_Swallowing quickly, he shook Giorgi’s shoulder, frowning as the other man stirred and twisted away from his touch. “Giorgi…Giorgi get up, you asshole.”_

_Giorgi kicked him and hissed, “Fuck, Lincoln. What’re you doin’ at my house?”_

_“We’re not at your house, we’re at the bar.”_

_Giorgi’s eyes snapped open and he sat up bolt right. “Fuckin-what happened?” he reached down and grabbed his clothes. “We must have been shitfaced to hell and back.” He touched his lips which Lincoln couldn’t help but notice were still swollen. “I smell reefer. We hit the joints?”_

_“Yeah, that and my old man’s whiskey.” Lincoln stood and pulled on his jeans, zipping them up as he leaned over and scooped Giorgi’s clothes off the floor._

_Frowning, Giorgi held the ripped tie. “Hell, when did that happen?” he asked, tossing it back on the floor._

**_Shiiit…_ ** _Lincoln thought as Giorgi got dressed, smoothing down the wrinkles as best he could from his clothes that had spent the entire night in a discarded pile. “Think you tore it when we got upstairs,” Lincoln lied, watching as Giorgi slipped on his wingtips, tugging at the heel._

_Running his fingers back through his hair, Giorgi sighed and rubbed his brow, “Yeah, kinda got that, Godzilla. Well fuck.” He straightened up and glanced back at Lincoln. “Shit man, you getting’ dressed or you gonna drive me home in your drawers?”_

_Lincoln swallowed and nodded, grabbing his shirt and tugging it on over his head. “I’ll be down in a minute if you wanna start up the car.” He dug his keys out of his jeans and tossed them to Giorgi._

_Once Giorgi was out of the room, Lincoln sighed and finished getting dressed. All that was left of their night was the destroyed tie on the floor, silk shining in the morning sun. Kneeling, Lincoln picked up the stretch of fabric and rubbed it between his fingers._

_It smelled like Giorgi’s cologne, a thick musk with a hint of some sort of fancy pine tree._

_Dropping the tie on top of his suitcase, he quickly grabbed his boots and headed downstairs._

* * *

_The drive to the Marcano mansion was mostly a silent one. Giorgi fiddled with the radio dial and stared out the window while Lincoln focused on the road. Did Giorgi remember what happened? Was he pretending that nothing went on between them? Did Lincoln even like what they did?_

_No…he had liked it. It just wasn’t something he had ever thought about, had ever thought about wanting._

_Fuckin’ men was something only queers did and both he and Giorgi had been fuckin’ chicks since they both learned that their peckers were for more than takin’ a piss. Did liking what they did make them homos? Was it just Giorgi?_

_“Hey Lincoln, you had fun last night, right?”_

_Lincoln was pulled from his thoughts and he glanced back at Giorgi. “Yeah, course.”_

_Giorgi smiled. “Good. Wanted to make sure you got a good send off.”_

_“I appreciate that, Giorgi.”_

_Lincoln pulled up the driveway to the mansion, stopping in front of the steps. A few of Sal’s men were standing guard at the front. They took a glance at Lincoln and his car and reached for their weapons, only to stop once they saw Giorgi getting out the passenger’s side._

_Giorgi rolled his eyes and rounded to the driver’s window, leaning in. “You better not die, asshole. An’ come see me when you go stateside again.” He grinned and offered his hand, which Lincoln gladly clasped in his own._

_“Yeah, yeah. You take care too, Giorgi. I better not hear that some fucker splattered your brains in an alley somewhere.”_

_Laughing, Giorgi shook his head. “Fair enough, Godzilla. I’ll even cross my heart.” He made an exaggerated X motion across his chest as he stepped back, heading to the stairs. Lincoln waved and Giorgi returned it, his expression softening._

_It was then that Lincoln finally found the word to describe the look that Giorgi Marcano gave him that night._

**_Longing._ **

* * *

Lincoln sighed and stubbed out his cigarette, popping open his trunk on the desk. Outside of a few clothes, some medals, and his gear, there weren’t too many personal possessions he had brought back with him from the war. He hadn’t taken much in and it didn’t feel right to take anything back.

But underneath his jacket lay a piece of tattered and faded silk. He pulled it out and unraveled it from Sammy's brass pocket watch. The scent of pine was gone, replaced with dirt, sweat, and napalm, the once smooth stitches were long since frayed.

Lincoln smiled softly and rubbed his thumb against the tear that he had put there himself that night.

Maybe after the Heist job, he could bring up that one night in the French Ward.

After a few drinks of course…


End file.
